


Speaking in Tongues

by Aeruthin



Category: The Originals (TV)
Genre: Angst, Brother/Sister Incest, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Post-Betrayal, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:02:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27728493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeruthin/pseuds/Aeruthin
Summary: It has been ten days since they fled New Orleans. Ten days since Mikael had chased them out of town. Ten days of driving their horses onwards and onwards through half frozen mud, putting as much distance between them and the city they had once called home.And it was all because of her.--Klaus and Rebekah have fled New Orleans, and Klaus comforts her in the only way he knows how.
Relationships: Klaus Mikaelson/Rebekah Mikaelson, Marcel Gerard/Rebekah Mikaelson (past)
Kudos: 21





	Speaking in Tongues

The stars and moon are veiled, and the little house is engulfed by an impenetrable darkness, cutting them off from the rest of the world.

If she pulled out her heart, Rebekah imagines, it should be as black as the darkness outside.

It has been ten days since they fled New Orleans. Ten days since Mikael had chased them out of town. Ten days of driving their horses onwards and onwards through half frozen mud, putting as much distance between them and the city they had once called home.

And it was all because of her.

The door behind her opens and closes again. Klaus’ heart beats loud in her ears as he halts behind her, breaking the deadly silence.

She is not surprised when his fingers trail over her shoulder and down to her waist. She isn’t surprised when his chest presses against her back, his arms circling around her. She is not surprised when he presses a soft kiss just below her ear.

She can categorise his touches with intimate precision. The clench of his fist on her arm when he is angry. The heated kisses meant to overwhelm and control. The friction of his finger as he rubs _just there_ , dragging her mind away from the lover he had killed.

_I told you so_ , his tongue would trace on her collarbone, forcing a mew from her throat.

_They are not worthy_ , his thumb would dig into her flesh, making her arch up to meet him.

His lips are not gloating now.

Instead, his fingers speak of sorrow when they loosen the laces of her dress and slip it down her arms. His mouth conveys pain when he kisses away the tears on her cheeks.

When his hand circles around her wrist and pulls her towards the bed, she goes willingly, even though she herself remains silent.

Her nails do not reveal the note she send to their father as they scratch his skin. Her legs do not declare her guilt as they clench tight around him. Her shivers do not express her shame.

Marcel is dead.

Elijah is gone.

And all that is left are empty touches between the sheets.


End file.
